Pain
by Sand Torrent
Summary: First fanfic... enjoy. Alduin is planning his return, years after his defeat at the hands of the Dragonborn. To feed his hunger for strength, he possesses humans in order to cause the one thing he thrives on: pain. Next chapter will come later. REVIEW PLEASE!
1. Prologue

Alduin, Bane of Kings watched as the gods sent him down to Oblivion. He hurtled through the dark, foul air for days. After five days, he landed. His scales ached with an agony hitherto unknown to him. _"Akatosh," _he hissed venomously. _"You shall pay for taking away what is mine!" _In his anger, the World-Eater spoke great words of power. The void in which he was present shook as a storm of lightning swirled through the air, charging the dark plane with pure energy. His Thu'um was still present, but not nearly as powerful as before.

Alduin had not known pain in all of his existence. The great god that he once was could bend reality to his will. Now, he was merely a husk of his former self. Alduin shouted again, and a hole was carved into the wall. Wait... wall? The dragon lord took to his wings and flew towards the cavern wall. He exited through the gaping hole that he had created. Outside, he found a landmass of black rocks and flitting ghosts. The sky was a purplish hue. No, not here! Alduin roared, and the world shook under his rage. The Aedra had the audacity to send him... here!

The years passed. Alduin waited, hungering for revenge. The Dovahkiin was now an old crone, broken down by age. The Bane of Kings entered the minds of men, corrupting them, twisting their beliefs. They would do his bidding until he could manifest on Tamriel again. The pain was still there. But Alduin's hunger was insatiable, and could be rivaled by nothing. He chuckled to himself. But for now... he had another realm to tyrannize.


	2. Overcome

_One year earlier, First of Frost Fall_

The caravan came to an abrupt halt on the outskirts of Morthal.

"Why here, Sorkial? Why not go inside the city? That is where Sorkial and La'Yad will find buyers," said the man in the black cloak.

"We shall rest here for the night, La'Yad. Who else would be meandering about at this hour? Pray, keep thy mouth shut unless you know thereof what you are speaking, Khajiit."

La'Yad grumbled to himself, but he consented.

The night was blissfully calm, which was not the case for Sorkial's dream. The Imperial woke with a start, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. The noise awakened La'Yad, who groggily looked around. When he saw Sorkial, his eyes widened.

"Master! Has Sorkial had a nightmare?" the Khajiit inquired nervously.

"Indeed, La'Yad. I saw a great black dragon. Alduin himself, the World-Eater of legend!"

La'Yad shook his head. "No, Sorkial. The black wyrm was vanquished by the Dragonborn of old, years ago!"

"Be that as it may, I know what I saw. He is coming for me, La'Yad. The Bane of Kings..." Sorkial shuddered. La'Yad tried to console his friend, but to no avail. The dreams continued.

_Back to the present, Fourteenth of Rain's Hand_

Sorkial was never the same. Day every day, he was plagued by terrifying nightmares. La'Yad had left him to join a shipping company in Eleswyr. He was alone. He now knew pain. It was the fabric of his reality. Every day, he prayed to the gods for guidance. None was given. Even the Aedra had abandoned him. He wandered around the Holds, selling rare objects. But rarely did people buy from him. They saw him as crazy, a blabbering idiot. He constantly murmured to himself, hoping that the dreams would not torment him again. But they did. They tortured him, gripping him with fear and anguish. Somewhere in the universe, the World-Eater laughed._  
_

Three dead by his hand. Blood stained his fingers. He could not remember when, or how. All he knew was: Three dead by his hand. He clutched at the walls of Windhelm, gasping for breath. "Don't let the fiend escape!" Guards. He staggered forward, still holding onto the wall. An arrow pierced his side. He fell, his robes crimson red. The guards surrounded him. They beat him mercilessly and bound him in chains. Sorkial the murderer then lost consciousness.

Sorkial awoke in a hall, his limbs in bindings. Two guards stood on wither side of him, spears in hand. Sorkial looked up. A man with a flowing beard and stately robes - no doubt the Jarl of Eastmarch (PS, not Ulfric, he was killed) - glared down at him. "Just what do you think you're doing, outsider?"

Sorkial spoke in a rasping voice. "I... do not know."

The Jarl muttered to himself. "Listen, murderer, I'm not playing any games here. Who are you, and why did you lay your blade upon the flesh of three innocents?"

One of the guards cleared his throat. "Speak, soldier," the Jarl snarled.

"He killed them with his bare hands, your highness."

The Jarl nodded and studied Sorkial's face. "How old are you, prisoner?"

"Thirty-one, sire," Sorkial responded.

"Very well," The Jarl stated plainly. "Lock him up in the dungeons, soldiers. We shall wait until he wants to tell us why he committed his crimes against Skyrim and her people." The guards hastily took him by his arms and hauled him off.

Two days passed. Sorkial attempted to escape thrice, to no avail. "FUS ROH DAH!" He suddenly yelled. The door of his cell was ripped from its hinges. Sorkial stumbled backward in shock. What was this sorcery? He did not know that he was capable of channeling magic. Then the truth hit him with the force of - whatever he had produced just a few moments ago. "Alduin," He whispered in horror.


	3. Darkness Rising

The Dragonborn sensed a disturbance in the universe. He grasped his walking stick and hobbled to the front door of Breezehome. He saw visions of a killer in Windhelm, corrupted by his greatest enemy. Alduin was feeding off of the unrest, violence, and fear struck into the heart of Ysgramor's city. The Dovahkiin would not stand for such evil. He waved his hand and disappeared in a flash of blue light.

Sorkial sprinted through the labyrinth of hallways, guards behind him. Suddenly, he burst into a wave of light. He was outside, in the Gray Quarter District. He had lost the guards... or so he thought. An Imperial soldier came running around the corner, panting. "Good try, prisoner. But you're going back-" The guard stumbled backwards, his face etched with surprise and fear.

There was something different about Sorkial. His eyes were a shade of deep crimson, and he now walked with a regal demeanor. Sorkial opened his mouth and shouted.

* * *

"The commander's body was found in the Gray Quarter, sire," A Windhelm guard said. The Jarl grimaced. "How did he escape?"

"Patrolling soldiers claim they heard him shout."

"Shout?" asked the Jarl doubtfully. "What do you mean, legionnaire?" The guard gulped. "The thu'um, my lord. He used the thu'um." The Jarl took this into account. "That is not good."

"Also, my lord... there were no signs of bodily harm on the corpse. We believe that the soldier was shouted to death." The Jarl grunted his understanding. "I want four guards at the main gates. Nobody enters unless those men approve. Do you understand me, guard?" The guard nodded. "Very well, sire. It shall be done."

* * *

The Dovahkiin inspected the body of the commander. "Not a trace of injury," he murmured. "The killer has struck again." Suddenly, a man in ragged, bloodstained clothes walked in front of him. "You are him," the man said. The Dragonborn smiled. "What is it you seek, child?"

"You're the Dragonborn, correct?"

"How did you know, child?" inquired the Dragonborn.

"I have... dreams. I've seen you. You beat him." The Dragonborn processed what the child was trying to say. "You are referring to Alduin, are you not?"

"Yes. Can you get him out of my head?"

"I am not sure, child. You are the killer, no?" The man nodded. "What is your name?"

"Sorkial," the man replied. Dovahkiin gestured to the corpse of the guard. "How did he die?"

"I... killed him. I yelled something in another language. Please... get him out of my head."

"Who, child?"

"Alduin."

Dovahkiin pondered for a few seconds. "I will try my best to do so, but I will need your full cooperation, Sorkial. And remember: good will will always overcome evil."

"Thank you. I'm-"

Suddenly, the Dragonborn collapsed, his face whitening. "Sorkial... fight him!" Sorkial looked down. His arm was outstretched, and in a fist. He knew what was happening, yet he could not stop it.

"Have... faith... child."

And thus, the Dragonborn died. Sorkial wept hot tears for the man who had tried to help him in his hour of need. "ALDUIN!" he bellowed. "Get out of my head! I renounce my hatred, my envy, my jealousy, my desires! You cannot tempt me! Leave. Just leave."

Sorkial felt the shadow go away, and he collapsed, sobbing.

* * *

Alduin roared in triumph. "Faal Dovahkiin is dead. Good. Soon, I will be able to manifest on the physical plane of existence. Sorkial has proven to be a useful tool. He inspired fear in the residents of Windhelm. He has fed me. Soon, I will return to full strength capacity and escape this damned hell. The Soul Cairn will never again contain me. After I rally my servants, we will attack the gods themselves. Then... the universe awaits."

The Ideal Master nodded in assent. "Very well. We will proceed with the plan. My brethren agrees to our proposition."

Alduin roared again. The Aedra would pay.


	4. Agony

"Meyz Muul, Durnehviir. Your master is dead. I am your lord now."

"Never, Alduin. I would not dishonor my master's memory by joining the Du. The Devourer." Alduin's scales bristled. "You are yet another disappointment, Durnehviir."

"Abandon your savage ways, Alduin. Govey Bruniik."

"My ways are not savage, Durnehviir. Mere savagery could not have killed the Dovahkiin." Durnehviir growled in fury. "Do not taint my master's honor with your cold tongue, Alduin. He was greater than you."

"What is greatness, Durnehviir? The days of old, when the Dov ruled Nirn in my name. Did that symbolize greatness? Or is a dragonborn dying by the hand of a possessed Joor greatness?"

"Yol Toor Shuul!" Durnehviir screamed. Flames engulfed the World-Eater, but when they dissapated he was unharmed. "Krii Lun Aus!" Alduin bellowed. Such was the power of Alduin's thu'um that Durnehviir was thrown backwards into a purplish portal, his life force already weakening. The guardian of the Soul Cairn was defeated.

* * *

_Seventeenth of First Seed, One year later_

The Imperial Province was packed with merchants and entrepreneurs, being the cosmopolitan capital of Tamriel. Traders frrom all over Tamriel bought and sold goods in the forums of the Imperial City. It was a sunny afternoon. Kilanoth wiped sweat from his brow, wincing as the sunrays pierced his Nordic skin. He was accustomed to cold weather. Here, it was a blistering desert. Yet another customer passed by his stall. "Fresh meat, straight from the forests of Skyrim," He yelled, hoping to draw some attention. Suddenly, a scholar walked up to his stall. "What is thy name, merchant?"

"I am Kilanoth, and I sell fresh meat. Would you like some horker meat? They are excellent in stews and broths-"

"I am Heimskr, prophet of Talos. I am not here to buy your food, Kilanoth. However, my message is of great importance."

"What message?"

"You are in grave danger. The Destruction God seeks you out."

"What Destruction God?"

"Thy guess is as good as mine."

"Who sent you?"

"Talos, the god of civilization."

"I'll keep your advice in mind."

"Very well then," Heimskr replied. Then the prophet left.

* * *

Kilanoth counted his septims. 40, not too bad. He packed his belongings into his cart, and trudged all the way home. In the forest, he felt a raindrop on his head. He looked up. As he watched, clouds were gradually blocking out the wide expanse of the sky. "By the grace of Kyne!" The rain worsened, until he was drenched to the extent of abject misery. "A day of good, honest work, and the gods give me this?" Kilanoth grumbled. Suddenly, he stumbled into a pit. "Gods above, is there no end to my misfortune?" Kilanoth yelled. Thankfully, the fall was along a rocky, slanted surface, not straight down. He had lost grip of his cart, and it was still at the edge of the pit. "Well... better find another way out of here," he stated.

* * *

The caves that followed the "entrance" were filled with Dwarven ruins. Several times, Kilanoth was painfully bashed by some Dwemer machinery. Weak and battered, he arrived at a door. When he opened it, he found himself in an enormous underground cavern with giant glowing mushrooms and... jellyfish? As he admired the sights, a slash opened up on his leg. He screamed in agony. He looked around. To his immediate left was a Falmer. "Just brilliant. What manner of beast art thee? Mer, or Beast?" In reply, the Falmer lunged at him and impaled its dagger in Kilanoth stomach. Kilanoth wailed in pain. Such intense pain. Suddenly, he felt his wounds heal themselves. "How-" The Falmer struck again. But this time, Kilanoth was ready. He dodged the stab and grabbed the Falmer's hand. With an effortless tug, he wrenched the creature's arm off. The Falmer crumpled, writhing in torment. _Finish him!_ a voice in his head goaded. "No!" Kilanoth screamed. But his hand was already grasping the dagger by its hilt. Without Kilanoth's consent, his hand drew back... and decapitated the Falmer.


	5. Clash of deities

_Aetherius_

The gods watched as the second victim died, strangling himself to death. "A merchant, Father. Why?"

Akatosh grimaced. "My first-born always felt an obsessive need to display his power through cruel means, Talos. He thrives on the pain he creates."

"Alduin must be stopped, Father. Grant me permission to engage the Wyrm in battle," Kynareth said. "No! The World-Eater is too powerful. My daughter... no."

Kynareth persisted. "Please, father. I will bring upon the halls of Bromjunaar a storm that will shake Oblivion itself. I will paint the soil with Alduin's black blood."

Akatosh sighed, but consented. "Very well, Kynareth. Go forth, and crush the Bane of Kings."

* * *

_Labyrinthian (Bromjunaar)_

Alduin roared at the skies. A new age would begin. The rule of the dragons would be restored at long last. Then, a woman descended from the skies. She had a gleaming bow in hand and a quiver full of silver arrows on her back. "Wyrm! Come and face me! I am Kynareth, the mistress of Tamriel, the peace-bringer!"

Alduin snarled. "Kyne. I assume that our Father has sent you?"

"Indeed, Wyrm. Tonight, you meet your end!"

The world shook as the children of Akatosh clashed.

* * *

"He is dead, son. There is nothing you can do. Try to see reason."

"No! He was my brother! What kind of father are you?"

"Listen, we do not have much time until the wrath of-"

"Wrath of who?"

"Until his wrath is upon us. Come, child. We must get far away from this cursed place."

* * *

The gods struck at each other with great force. Alduin blew a column of fire at Kyne, but the nimble goddess danced away and hurled sheets of wind at the black dragon. Alduin staggered, cursing in the dragon tongue. "Foolish goddess. Do you think you can hope to beat me?" Kynareth did not reply. She promptly notched and arrow and shot it at Alduin's face. Alduin snarled as the arrow sliced his cheek. His barbed tail swung around and sank into Kyne's calf. THe goddess screamed and fell.

* * *

**Short, I know. Next chapter will be better, promise!**


End file.
